


Of Fire And Brimstone

by Soco



Series: In His Image [1]
Category: League of Legends
Genre: Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soco/pseuds/Soco
Summary: Twilight and Dusk meant nothing to him. He would breath in. The smell of ash and cinders flooding his senses. He would be the beginning and end - Alpha and Omega. His beloved children would find their new home in this alternate reality. A far cry from the fiery oceans and pillowy spires of smoke they called home. The Infernals would spread their reach but at what cost?





	Of Fire And Brimstone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan work for League of Legends. I really love the Infernal skins and want to make a story out of inspiration. English is not my first language, if there are mistakes I apologise. Please enjoy! This is just a test to see how others like this.

The King of The Hellspawn. Father of The Infernals. The Ashen Lord. Aurelion Sol held many aliases. No mortals dared speak his true name in fear of what omens surface as result. For his true name was spoken only by his most beloved and trusted Infernals. Man revered and respected his power, often paying tribute by burning of crops and bonfires. He paid no mind, merely sated at the fact they seemed to prolong their meaningless existence. He chuckled at the thought. His roar echoed, quaking the heavens and earth below. This alerted the humans of his arrival, as they scurried from his sight. His shadow cast on their village, an omen of the impending doom to come. The unspoken fury of hell itself coated the dragon's scales as he emerged from the skies, tearing rifts of reality. Each one dappled with undertones of grey and black. A gold crown adorned his head, no doubt a gift from his beloved children. Two crimson black horns sprawled from his head, curving along the length of his face. At the base of his spine, his carapace jutted out like weathered rock. His fiery mane flowed like a river as the lava fell off in chunks.

The Ashen-lord eyed his children. Their faces peered up to his. He smiled warmly, a glint of affection hidden beneath his intimidating facade. To man and mortal alike, he was but a heartless tyrant. His children believed differently. Aurelion Sol knew this and seeked to spread the gift of fire. The mischievous little ones returned the look, with an insatiable appetite for spreading the plague of undeath. He wordlessly beckoned them, and with that their Father's bidding was done. The humans struggled futilely as the hellspawn ravaged their dens. They fought the relentless onslaught only to die as lava, ash, and the like rained down on their corpses. With their villages and home destroyed, the men accepted their fates - to be remade. A new purpose yet unknown to their irrelevant mortal desires. They cried for mercy but their was none. For his gift was  _mercy_   itself.

He ended their lives out so easily. Mortals and man were both so _fragile_. Easy to _break_. However they _struggled_  greatly despite the odds stacked against them. This intrigued his majesty as he watch them melt to dust. Their cries deafened eventually leaving only silence.  First they were formless blobs of ash but then they took a shape of something more _human_. Aurelion Sol admired his craft, as he welcomed his newest children into their dystopian world. They meekly gazed with glassy eyes, oblivious to their current states of being. **"Hear my voice and obey**." He trembled with power demanding their attention. They clinged to his claws as if it was their source of life. This he loved. Everything was as it should be. His children knowing his power. Knowing he could end them whenever he felt. Though they understood the Ashen-lord wouldn't dare, they  accepted their current positions as his subjects. For him  _willingly_   breathing them into being was a mercy few would ever live to see.

" **You my child will be the newest to join our crusade. Your lord** **brings a gift not all are prepared for. We live eternal within the flame, never to be snuffed out**." He continued, " **Now show me your gifts. You will need names**."

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**Author's Note:**

> Please leave critique and give tips if you like or dislike! Thank you very much for reading! This is a short draft of the prolouge, more will be added if this is received well.


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